


you pulled me in and together we're lost in a dream

by daisylincs



Series: Agents of Fluff 2020 [6]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Agents of fluff, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Awkward Flirting, Crush, Elena Rodriguez Ships It, Everyone Ships It!!, F/F, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff Bingo 2020, Melinda May Ships It, The Customers Ship It, skimmons - Freeform, they're just really really cute okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:33:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27615593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisylincs/pseuds/daisylincs
Summary: Daisy Johnson has had a hopeless crush on her British co-barista for as long as she can remember - but when a familiar and wholly surprising face shows up in the coffee shop, she might just summon up the courage to actually ask Jemma out.
Relationships: Jemma Simmons/Skye | Daisy Johnson, Melinda May & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Phil Coulson/Melinda May (background), Yo Yo Rodriguez & Skye | Daisy Johnson
Series: Agents of Fluff 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1997707
Comments: 10
Kudos: 48
Collections: Agents of Fluff 2020





	you pulled me in and together we're lost in a dream

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MayBeBrilliant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayBeBrilliant/gifts).



> Have I been under a crazy amount of pressure at work lately? Why, yes. Is writing fic the best coping method? _Probably_ no... but at the moment it's what's keeping me sane. And the fluffier, the better, honestly. 
> 
> Oh, I have a funny story about this particular fic - Kat and I actually came up with identically the same idea for this prompt when we were first plotting out the fluff bingo. Soulmates, right? _*high-fives in Skimmons*_ But, cool as it might have been, I have absolutely no inclination to go up in any kind of competition with my fandom wife. We all know who would win that one, right? *hides* Especially with the level of sleep-deprivation I’m at right now.
> 
> Anyways - this one is dedicated to May, who's been a wonderful ray of sunshine and kindness in these last couple of tricky weeks. Thank you so much, love - I really do appreciate you incredibly much. I hope you, and all my other fellow Skimmons fans, like this! 💜

"One upside-down caramel macchiato," Daisy called, slapping it down on the counter next to Jemma. 

Her friend, co-barista and hopeless crush turned around, giving her signature warm, heart-melting smile. 

Daisy's brain stuttered to a halt. What was… what was her name again? 

"Thanks, Dais, you're a star," Jemma said, still smiling over her shoulder as she whisked the coffee away. 

Ah yes, that's what it was. _Dais. Daisy._

Jemma had a _nickname_ for her, a special nickname that only she used. That meant something, right? It totally did. 

… But, crap, she should probably say something, she realised belatedly. Jemma had spoken to her, hadn't she? 

"No problem," she managed after a moment, ridiculously late - but it was no use anyway, since Jemma had already swept into the coffee shop with the macchiato. That didn't stop Daisy from giving an awkward wave at her friend's back, though, and she immediately wished the earth would open up and swallow her. 

Why did she have to lose her head so completely?! It was just a smile, _dammit_. 

But it was _Jemma's_ smile, and that made all the difference in the world - because _who else_ looked like they had the very personification of a warm hug in the crinkle of laughter lines by her eyes? Who else radiated happiness and affection just by a little up-tug at the corners of her lips? Who else had rays of sunshine in the sparkles in her brown eyes? 

_Nobody,_ that was who. 

And, okay, maybe Daisy was ridiculously in love (and kind of sucky at description) - but still. _Jemma._

Jemma, Jemma, Jemma! 

She was the warmest, kindest, most compassionate, most _beautiful -_

“Daisy!” a familiar, accented voice called, snapping her out of her daydreaming. She glanced up guiltily to see Elena standing in front of the counter, snapping her fingers with a little smirk on her face. 

“When you’re quite finished making moony eyes at Simmons,” Elena said, smirk widening now that she had Daisy’s attention, “there’s a whole line of us waiting, too.”

“Right, sorry,” Daisy said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear with a wince. “What can I do for you?”

“The usual,” Elena said, tapping the counter. Her dark eyes turned playful. “And you can ask out Jemma.”

Daisy, who had been nodding smoothly along, choked on air, her cheeks burning. _“Elena!”_ she hissed.

“What?” Elena asked, raising her palms innocently. 

Daisy’s cheeks were still on fire. “You can’t just _say_ that,” she said under her breath, glaring furiously at her friend. 

“Why not?” Elena inquired, her smirk returning full-force. “This entire coffee shop knows you two are ridiculously in love.”

“First of all, _shut up,”_ Daisy hissed, glancing furtively around the shop. Good, Jemma was still out of hearing distance. “And second of all, what do you _mean,_ ridiculously in love?”

“Moony-eyed looks, flirting over coffee, laughing, teasing…” Elena listed, checking the items off her fingers.

Daisy shook her head. “Come on, Yo-Yo -” the nickname being a remnant of the time Elena had dropped a takeaway coffee, and instead of breaking open, it had bounced right back into her hand - “don’t be stupid. We - _we -_ don’t do any of that.”

Because, sure, _she_ was ridiculously in love, but Jemma had never showed any signs of feeling the same way. If anything, she was completely oblivious - joking and teasing and laughing with Daisy as comfortably as she did with everyone else. 

It made her simultaneously want to laugh back, full of giddy tingles and swooping butterflies in her stomach and the feeling that she might melt into a pile of heart-eyed happy goo, and shut herself in the supplies cupboard and never come out. (Mostly the melting part, though.) 

Elena just shook her head as she handed Daisy her card to pay. _“Idiotas,”_ she muttered under her breath as she typed in her PIN. _“Tendrás que resolverlo algún día.”_

Daisy had no idea what had just been said, but she was ninety-nine percent sure that it had been an insult of some kind, and one hundred percent sure that it was about her and Jemma.

She shook her head, muttering to herself as she started to make Elena’s cuppa. As she was getting a fresh takeaway cup, her gaze slipped past her friend, and she cringed as she saw the line of people waiting there. Elena hadn’t been wrong, there were a _lot._

Daisy and Jemma were working as fast as they could (and, God, but Jemma was amazing at it - so efficient and organised and still so warm and charming to all the customers, and… wait, what was she saying, again?) Ah, yes. Daisy and Jemma were working as fast as they could, but with Bobbi away on her honeymoon - sorry, _second_ honeymoon - with Hunter, there was just too much coming in for them to cope with. Her… distraction definitely wasn’t helping, either.

But luckily for her, and for Elena’s coffee, growing up in a coffee shop meant she could pretty much make a cappuccino with closed eyes. 

_Still,_ though. This distraction was _bad._ As her mom would say, punch-worthy - except of course for the tiny fact that she would never, _never_ punch Jemma.

She finished Elena’s drink just as Jemma came back around to the counter, and the smile her co-barista sent her made her heart skip a beat. Several beats, actually; and her brain completely forgot everything it had ever known about functioning regularly. 

“Excellent timing, as always, Dais,” Jemma said, her brown eyes warm as she winked at Daisy “Here we go again, right?”

“Us against the world,” Daisy agreed, finishing their catchphrase with a grin and shifting over to make room for Jemma at the counter so they could face the impending doom of the customer line together. _God._ Had it _doubled_ in the short time she had been talking to Elena? It really, really looked like it had. 

_Why did I_ ever _let Dad guilt me into working in his coffee shop?_ she lamented, not for the first time. 

But just like it always did whenever she thought that, her brain replied, with a logical kind of calm that it had apparently picked up from Jemma - _one, you love coffee. Two, you love dad. And three, you love --_

 _Okay, okay,_ she thought, shutting that logical part of her brain up as quickly as she could. _I get it._

Which was, frankly, ridiculous, given that she was having a conversation with herself. She cringed, sneaking a glance at Jemma busily preparing a double shot espresso beside her - good thing she couldn’t read minds, right? 

Except, a _sneaked_ glance turned into a much _longer_ glance, and she found herself mesmerised by the tiny details of Jemma’s face, by the way her brow wrinkled into tiny concentration creases, and by the way the sunbeams slanting in from the windows caught the highlights in her hair, and by the way her eyes seemed to be smiling even while she was focusing hard, and especially - _oh God -_ by the way she bit her lip. 

Jemma was _right there._ Technically speaking, she could kiss her right now, and she wouldn’t even have to shift up by much -

Daisy tore her gaze away, cheeks burning. _Shit._ Yeah, it was a _really_ good thing Jemma couldn’t read minds!

“One venti cafe latte with soy milk, for Kathryn,” she somehow managed to say, holding out the drink and handing it off to the appropriate customer. 

“Would you mind awfully making me one of those when I take my fifteen?” Jemma asked, pausing in her coffee-making for a moment to smile hopefully at Daisy.

If Jemma’s smile earlier had made her heart skip several beats, well, this expression, all hopeful and open and sweet, made it take a whole damn holiday. 

“Um,” Daisy stuttered, having to physically rein herself in from saying, _anything. I’ll do anything for you._ “Of course. Sure. No problem.” 

“Thanks, you’re the best,” Jemma said easily, flashing her a pleased smile with just a flash of dimples in her cheeks. And that was it, Daisy was officially dead, dead of pure, giddy happiness. Jemma was conversing with her ghost now. 

“Though,” Jemma said, and Daisy decided to come back to life very quickly, because when Jemma said anything, she dropped everything else to be there. Even dying, apparently. 

“I don’t know if I’ll even be _able_ to take my fifteen,” Jemma mused, her eyes darting apprehensively over the still-growing line. 

“Of course you’ll be able to take your fifteen,” said a voice from behind them that was so wonderfully familiar, and so completely _impossible,_ that Daisy nearly dropped the mocha frappe she was making. 

_“Mom?!”_ she spluttered, just barely managing to rescue the drink and plop it back on the counter before whipping around and unashamedly gaping.

And sure enough, it _was_ \- Melinda May, in the flesh, in a _coffee shop._ In a brown _Best Coffee In Town_ apron, no less! 

“May, this is a lovely surprise,” Jemma said, putting down the latte she had been making - a lot more gracefully than Daisy had, it had to be said - and smiling at the older woman.

May smiled back, a rare thing, but sincere. “Good to see you too, Simmons.” 

Putting her hands on her hips, she glanced around the place, her nose wrinkling slightly at the sheer amount of _coffee_ in front of her. She seemed to brace herself, drawing in a quick breath, then said to Jemma - “Really, go take your fifteen. Daisy and I can manage here.” 

Daisy was still too busy trying to process what on earth _May_ was doing in a _coffee shop,_ but she managed to nod along.

“Thanks a million,” Jemma said gratefully, finishing off the latte and handing it to the customer with a quick smile before shrugging off her barista’s apron and making her way to the back. 

“I’ll bring you your coffee in five,” Daisy called after her, feeling a little flood of warmth fill her body when Jemma threw her a thumbs-up and an affectionate smile. 

Beside her, May snorted. “That’s not all you’ll be bringing her.” 

Daisy spun around, nearly knocking over the mocha frappe for the second time in as many minutes. “Excuse me?” 

Grimacing, May rescued the drink, handing it over the counter to the correct customer before turning back to Daisy. “I said, that’s not all you’ll be bringing her,” she said calmly. “You’ll _also_ be bringing her an invitation.” 

Daisy folded her arms, aware that this position was one she had learned and copied exactly from the woman standing in front of her. “What do you mean, an _invitation?”_ she asked challengingly. 

May crossed her arms, too, and, great, now Daisy just felt bad. How was it _so_ much more intimidating and impressive when her mom did it? 

“I mean exactly what I said,” she said calmly. “An invitation - to a date.” 

Daisy spluttered, falling out of her composed position completely and grabbing at the counter to steady herself. “A _what?”_

“A _date,”_ May said, very slowly and clearly. “You know, the social activity in which two people who are besotted with each other meet up at a restaurant and stare dreamily into each other’s eyes for the duration of a night.” 

“First of all, I know what a date is,” Daisy said, managing to straighten herself up and folding her arms again. “Second of all, that’s not all people do on dates, we’re not all you and Coulson, you know. And third of all - _I am not asking Jemma on a date.”_

“Well, why not?” May asked calmly, pouring milk into a cappuccino with remarkable deftness for someone who hated coffee.

With a guilty start, Daisy remembered she was supposed to be making Jemma’s latte, and immediately started doing that. “Because I _won’t,”_ she told her mom, putting the cup down with perhaps just a _little_ too much emphasis.

May calmly passed the cuppa to the customer. “Do you have a reason?” 

Daisy forgot what she was doing for a second as she glared at her mom, and accidentally added too much milk to the latte, cursing as it spilled onto the counter. Muttering _“shit, shit, shit,”_ under her breath, she ducked under the counter to get a flannel, jabbing ferociously at the spilled milk and refusing to meet May’s gaze.

May, she noticed through the corner of her eye, was watching her with a faint smirk. 

“Look,” she said, straightening up and meeting May’s gaze squarely. “It’s not that I don’t want to, I just… _can’t.”_

May gave her a supremely unimpressed look. “If _I_ can work in a _coffee shop_ for a morning, you can most _definitely_ ask Jemma Simmons out.” 

Daisy snapped her fingers. “That’s a good point, actually,” she said. “How _are_ you even here? How the hell did Dad swing that?” 

“With a _lot_ of sweet-talking, and the promise of a brand-new bottle of 2014 Haig,” May explained. She narrowed her eyes at Daisy. “But don’t think you can get out of this. Why do you think you can’t ask Jemma out?” 

Daisy twisted the packet of sugar she was about to add to Jemma’s latte. “Because what if… what if she doesn’t feel the same way?”

May gave her a long, spectacularly flat look. _“Really?”_

Daisy folded her arms defensively. “What?” 

May sighed, putting down the bottle of milk and turning to face Daisy directly. “Look,” she said, and her tone made it clear that it was time to listen. “I get that you don’t want to mess things up. I get it a lot better than you think, actually - did you know that it took your dad and I more than fifteen years to get our act together?” 

“No, really?” Daisy asked, intrigued in spite of herself.

May gave a self-deprecating nod. “Yeah. We were best friends, and things were great. We both liked each other, but we weren’t _sure,_ and neither of us were brave enough to take the leap in case something went wrong, you know?” 

She took a step closer to Daisy, and her gaze was electric. “But, Daisy, you _have_ to,” she said. “You have to make the leap. Because if there’s one thing that I’ve learned over the years, it’s that life’s _not_ meant to be spent alone. You’ll only hurt yourself, and _her,_ if you keep waiting.” 

She held Daisy’s gaze intently for a moment to let that sink in, then added, with one of those flashes of mischief that completely explained where Daisy had gotten her sense of humour - “Besides, you can’t even function for two seconds without it somehow turning into a starry-eyed monologue about Jemma Simmons.”

Daisy cringed. The sheer _accuracy_ of that, though…

But she was also deeply, deeply touched.

“That’s really what you think?” she said, her hands stilling as she held Jemma’s latte. “About waiting?”

Holding her gaze seriously, May nodded.

Daisy picked up the latte again, adding milk with a new resolve. “And you really think Jemma… likes me too?” 

If you could murder someone with a look, Daisy would be stone dead. “I have _eyes,_ Daisy Johnson,” May said with blinding sarcasm. 

Daisy lifted up the coffee, simultaneously trying not to laugh and trying to shake off the giddy, excited feeling inside. “Well, then,” she said, feeling a renewed surge of butterflies flare up in her stomach, “I think I’ll go do it.” 

“Great,” May said, her gaze softening with affection and, Daisy thought, pride. Spontaneously, she stepped forward and hugged her. 

May patted her back, and Daisy could just _hear_ the smile in her voice as she added, “Just one thing, though. You added at _least_ three sugars to Simmons’ coffee, and somehow I _don’t_ think that’s how she takes it.” 

Daisy glanced down and groaned. Sure enough, there were three sugar packets lined up on the counter. “Third time lucky?” she said, reaching for a new cup.

She did indeed manage to get the latte right on the third try - and about time, too. Jemma had to think she had completely forgotten about her! _Well._ That would never be true.

For just a moment, she felt a flood of nerves wash through her again - because was she _really_ about to do this? She, Daisy Johnson? Ask out Jemma Simmons, the girl she had been crushing on ever since she’d first arrived at the coffee shop in her red blazer and cute British accent? 

_Yes,_ she thought, remembering her mom’s words. _Yes, I am. I’m about to ask out Jemma Simmons._

Suitably emboldened, she stepped out into the back, her heart doing its usual little skip when she caught sight of Jemma curled comfortably into the couch, reading something on her phone. 

“Here you are,” she said, passing her the (third attempt) at the latte she had requested.

Jemma glanced up, her expression immediately softening into a smile that, as always, made Daisy's whole world a little brighter (and giddier.) “Thanks,” she said, immediately curling both hands around the cup.

“Doyouwanttogooutwithme?” Daisy blurted before she could lose her nerve.

Jemma blinked, and, honestly, she had _no_ right to make utter confusion that adorable. “I… pardon?” 

Daisy took a deep breath, imagining her mom’s face, then her dad’s. Things had worked out pretty perfectly for them, hadn’t they?

“I said, do you want to go out with me?” she repeated, a lot more clearly this time.

For a moment, Jemma just looked at her blankly, and Daisy started to dread that, _shit,_ her mom had been wrong, Jemma _didn’t_ like her back, she had just ruined everything -

“I’d love that,” Jemma said, standing up and putting the coffee down on the couch behind her and starting to smile, slowly at first, but growing wider and brighter with every second. “Daisy, I’d _love_ that.” 

Daisy couldn’t stop the surprised chuckle that burst from her. “Really?” 

“Really,” Jemma said, her eyes sparkling. Daisy's knees went a little weak, but Jemma, hardly seeming to notice, went on, eyes still alight, “I’m really, really glad you asked, actually. I’ve been wanting to ask you for _months_ now, but I never -” 

“Summoned up the courage? Didn’t want to ruin things?” Daisy suggested, getting her weak-kneed-ness in check and shifting a little closer.

Jemma nodded fervently. _“Exactly.”_

“Well, then we’re a pair of idiots,” Daisy said decisively, stepping even further into Jemma’s space, and trying to push away how breathless and tingly it all made her feel. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, it worked, and she groaned as a thought occurred to her. “And I suppose everyone else knew, didn’t they?” 

Jemma covered her face with her hands, groaning too - except on her, it managed to sound lovely. “I suppose they did,” she said through the gaps in her fingers. 

Tenderly, Daisy reached forward and lifted Jemma’s hands off her face, holding them both in hers. Dizzy, happy tingly sensations zipped up and down her body at the tiny bit of contact, and it took every bit of focus she had to keep her attention on what she was supposed to be saying. “Well, I suppose that’s one more meaning of _us against the world,”_ she said. 

Jemma laughed, the sound wonderfully bright and carefree, and Daisy decided right there that she wanted to keep hearing that sound for the rest of her life. 

Taking a final step forward, she squeezed Jemma’s hands and closed the last smidgeon of space between them, so that their noses were practically brushing and their lips inches apart.

Jemma’s breath caught slightly, the tiniest of gasps, and that was more than enough for Daisy.

Pressing forward, she kissed her, letting go of Jemma’s hands in favour of wrapping her arms tightly around her waist and pulling her close.

Jemma kissed her back immediately, and God if it wasn’t the best feeling in the world - better, even, than a really excellent cup of coffee.

They had to break apart eventually for air, and then go back to the jobs they were here for in the first place - but Daisy couldn’t have wiped the grin off her face if she had tried, and neither, by the looks of it, could Jemma.

May gave the two of them a knowing look as they took their places again - but Daisy didn’t think either of them even cared. _Us against the world,_ after all. 

Beneath the counter, Jemma squeezed her hand - and Daisy smiled. 

This was the start of something really good. 

**Author's Note:**

>  _Tendrás que resolverlo algún día_ \- You’ll figure it out someday.  
> Note: this Spanish is directly from Google Translate, the accuracy of which… we all know, lmao. Unfortunately, I don’t happen to know any Spanish people to check it with, but if you know any corrections, just let me know and I’ll happily fix it. 
> 
> (also, isn’t it almost amazing how _spectacularly_ I failed at keeping this under 1k words? Oh well... *smiles sappily in Skimmons*)


End file.
